


No Pain, No Game

by Vanui



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Basketball AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1886250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanui/pseuds/Vanui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is hard, but high school is harder, especially trapped in the midst of a love triangle and being dragged into the basketball team. Their nationwide famous basketball team. The pressure's on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The day was like any other; sunny, dotted with wisps of white clouds and scatterings of grey pollution on the horizon, and the sky as blue as could be. So she had decided to take a walk to one of the better local parks and throw out her leftover, slightly stale bread from last week and feed the birds. What made this day different from any other, however, was the unexpected comment she heard while standing by the edge of the fountain, watching the pigeons peck away at her crumbs.

"They like French bread better," a low, sultry voice spoke up, interrupting her mid-throw and jarring her out of her thoughts. Her head shot up while a light summer breeze lifted her blonde locks into her vision, and for a moment, her view of the stranger was obscured.

"Pardon?" She held her hair back with her breadless hand and blinked. Standing before her (or rather, towering over her) was the tallest person she had ever seen off of television and the internet, and unable to contain her astonishment, a surprised "woah" escaped her lips.

The tall stranger cocked an amused eyebrow, and she flushed at her outburst. "French bread. The pigeons, they like that better than regular loaf bread, or so I've been told."

She had to pull her eyes away from the stranger's unkempt hair and piercing dark eyes, and instead they fell on the light sprinkle of freckles across the stranger's cheeks. "Who told you that?" she asked.

"Someone else who likes to feed the damn pests," the stranger smirked, and she felt a prickle of irritation at the mysterious statement.

"I see." Frowning, she squinted up at the stranger's relaxed pose and wondered why in the world they had stopped to talk to her about her bird feeding bait. Several seconds passed, neither person moving or speaking, and so she impatiently continued, "Well then, if you'll excuse me-"

"Ymir," the stranger nonchalantly finished.

She twitched at the interruption. What a strange name. "Please excuse me, Ymir," she tried again and threw in a mocking nod of her head. Normally, she'd be polite, but something about the stranger put her on edge. It wasn't threatening, per se, but it was certainly unsettling, and she couldn't wait to leave and be done with the birds, the park, and the stranger. She threw her remaining bread to the ground and watched as the pigeons immediately began to tear it to shreds.

Before she had taken more than two steps away, however, the stranger was looming over her once more and blocking her path. "I believe," Ymir the stranger started, "that it is customary to introduce yourself to someone once they have given you their name."

She stared at Ymir, wondering how serious she was, and she realized the stranger wasn't kidding. "Krista," she reluctantly gave out and sighed.

"A pleasure," Ymir grinned. It was the most smug grin she had ever seen, and her hand twitched with the urge to wipe it right off that face.

"Sure," she replied. "A pleasure. Goodbye now." She leaped past the stranger and jogged quickly to the park's exit, feeling slightly uneasy and more than a little aware of the dark eyes following her out.

"Bye," she heard, and then she was free. Whatever. She wasn't going to see the tall stranger again anyway because this park was officially off her list of hangouts for the next five or so years. "After a few years on your own, you sure know your way around creeps and weirdos, Krista," she muttered to herself, then shook her head and picked up the pace.

That was the first time she met the strange, tall girl named Ymir, and although she did not visit that park again for a good while, true to her word, she would somehow end up running into Ymir again. And again. And again and again.

At least, she would say later on, she found out who liked to feed French bread to the pigeons.

* * *

"When was the last time you did anything with your life?"

Krista turned her head to look at the flashing screen of a television advertisement. Through the shop's display window, she watched as a balding man sat in an unmoving position, pictured in various scenes of mundane, daily activities. First was the kitchen, a hot cup of coffee untouched on the table. Next was the train, packed and filled to the brim. After that was an office desk piled high with paperwork amongst the display of an outdated computer screen. Lunch, more work, dinner by himself at a lonesome ramen shop, and then he went to bed.

A familiar tune popped up in the background, and the narrator proudly declared, "Fear not! For with a little bit of Orange Rescue, your day will go from boring to exciting in seconds!" A man in a bright orange jumpsuit suddenly invaded the balding man's home, riding on a zipline, and produced a bottle of the advertised drink with a smile. One sip later, the balding man joined him with a smile of his own.

The screen cut to black, and disclaimers too fast to understand flashed past, but Krista had already moved on. "If only life were that simple," she smiled ruefully. "One sip of a magic drink, and your life changes for the better."

She swallowed thickly. Adjusted the strap of her dark blue book bag. Continued to walk. Wondered, for her own amusement, if Orange Rescue really was that good. It certainly was everywhere.

A blink of an eye later, footsteps and animated voices reached her ears, and she refocused on the world.

"Did you catch the latest episode of Unnatural Occurrences?" a boy's voice asked.

"The one where they went to an abandoned castle and tried to find ghosts?" a second boy's voice returned. This one sounded vaguely bored. "Like every other episode?"

"Oh, come on. The episode before that, they were in an abandoned hospital! And the one before that, a school! Oh man, Armin, dude, what if there're ghosts in our school?" the first voice rambled. "We totally need to sneak in at night some-"

"You will do nothing of the sort," a female voice broke in, so abruptly cold and emotionless that Krista turned around in surprise to face the conversation. The first thing she noticed were that they wore the same khaki colored vests over short-sleeved polos that she currently sported. The same red tie. Dark grey skirts. Well, the boys had pants on, but they were also a dark grey shade. They were, in short, fellow students at the same school. Immediate unease began to bubble in her chest.

"Mom doesn't have to know, Mikasa. It'll be a little harmless test of courage," the boy goaded. His black hair bounced with every step he took, and as he turned to his other male companion, Armin. Krista's eyes fell on a mop of blonde hair as bright as her own. "Right, Armin?"

"Eren, if you want to get in trouble after your very first day of school, then don't drag me into it," Armin sighed.

"You just want to go home and play videogames all night," Eren pouted. Before he had a chance to say anymore, Mikasa had his ear in her grip and, judging by how white her knuckles were, she was holding onto it very, very tightly.

"Eren. If you so much as take one step out of your room tonight, I will ensure that you do not make it past the bathroom door," she stated. Krista thought she was joking, but from the way Eren immediately turned pasty white, she believed Mikasa would stay true to her word.

"Ow, ow, okay, Mikasa, I get it," Eren quickly conceded. Then his sea green eyes made contact with Krista's and brightened up with excitement. He jerked his head away from Mikasa's death grip, and Krista reflexively took a step back. "Oh, hey there!"

However silly it was, she momentarily wondered if it was too late to pretend she had never seen the trio, but there was no getting out of it now. "Hey," she hesitantly greeted. Mikasa and Armin were gazing at her too, and with three pairs of eyes focused on her small form, she wanted nothing more than to turn around and start running. She should've just kept walking.

"Your uniform, it looks kind of familiar," Eren joked. "Are you a first year?"

"Yeah," Krista responded.

"Woah, us too. Name's Eren Yeager," he grinned, holding his hand out. Taken aback by his friendliness, Krista faltered for a second before grasping the hand meekly and shaking.

"Krista Lenz," she returned. Their hands separated, and soon enough, Mikasa and Armin were close by with their own hands extended.

"Armin Arlert," the blonde boy gently smiled, and they shook.

"Mikasa Ackerman," the dark-haired girl solemnly gave out, eyes glinting with scrutiny. Her grip was surprisingly firm, very firm, and Krista bit back a wince when she retracted her fingers.

"Nice to meet you all," she smiled, but it came out forced. She only hoped it wasn't too obvious.

They returned the saying with slight nods of their heads, and it was only then that Krista noticed a curious duffel bag weighing down on Mikasa's shoulder. The black container was stuffed to the brim, so much so that Krista questioned how she could have missed seeing the thing until now. Armin caught her gaze.

"Ah," Armin spoke up. "Guess you noticed the extra baggage, eh. I told her she wouldn't need it on the first day, but she insisted."

"Need it?" Krista blinked. Need what, their gym uniform? Wasn't that small enough to fit in their book bags?

"A change of clothes, water bottle, towel, and shoes," the black-haired girl listed. "And food. Energizing snacks. Electrolytes."

Krista stared in confusion. The three of them stared back.

"Oh," Armin gasped, comprehension dawning, "perhaps you don't know."

"You can't expect everyone to know," Mikasa rolled her eyes.

"Know what?" Krista asked. Were they some kind of popular underground drug dealers or something?

"Mikasa here was specially recruited by our high school," Eren beamed, "to play basketball."

It took a second for the statement to fully process. Basketball. She vaguely remembered hearing her school was famous for their girls basketball team, but her mind had been so focused on knowing its education rating at the time that the fact completely slipped her mind. "So then, er," Krista stammered, unsure of how to react, "Congratulations?"

"Thank you," Mikasa shrugged. She blushed, showing emotion for the first time and thoroughly surprising Krista, as Eren wrapped an affectionate arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a side hug.

"She's gonna be a superstar, and you're lucky enough to meet her before the fame sets in," he grinned.

"Don't be ridiculous," muttered Mikasa, swatting him on the arm, but she didn't pull away.

Observing the exchange, Krista couldn't help but ask, "Are you two going out?" In an instant, Mikasa turned beet red and vehemently shook her head while Eren merely looked completely mind-boggled at the idea. She blinked at the vast difference between their reactions. "Oh, uh, sorry. That was out of line."

"Guys, I hate to interrupt, but we have around five minutes before the gates close," Armin broke in, reminding them that he was present, and he tapped his watch for emphasis. "We aren't anywhere near the gates."

"Shit."

"Language."

Instantly back to their old selves, Eren and Mikasa spared Armin and Krista a quick glance, and that was it. They took off like a rush of wind, feet pounding into the sidewalk, and after a few stunned seconds, she heard Armin say, "We should probably start running, too."

God, she hadn't run in years.

They made it though, sweat running down her forehead and stickiness aside, and the student attending to the gate gave them a stern look before shutting the black iron shut. She and Armin bent over and panted, desperately trying to catch their breaths, and gripped their knees for support.

"That... was... awful," Krista huffed, simply letting her bag slide off her arm and onto the ground.

"Yeah," Armin faintly breathed out. "But... we still gotta... make it to class..."

Sighing, she heaved herself upright and wiped her face off with her sleeve. With a determined glint to her eye, she pulled Armin up as well and merely said, "Better get going then."

She heard the boy chuckle and, despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the amount of years she lost off her life, found herself smiling in turn. Somehow, she had made a friend. A few friends, maybe. That was more than she'd expected to make the first month.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Or maybe this would be worse.

"Now class, I'd like you to take turns introducing yourselves briefly to your peers," a stern, rather short man requested from the front of the room. His hair was boyish, cut short but not too short, and he vaguely reminded Krista of Eren except with much harsher eyes. And the height, of course. He cleared his voice once and gripped the wooden podium tightly. "I'll start with myself. My name is Levi, just Levi, and you shall address me as Mr. Levi. If I ever find a scrap of garbage or anything remotely unclean in this room, every single one of you runts are going to be sitting in detention for a week. Do I make myself clear?"

Perfect. An OCD homeroom teacher.

"Yes sir," a tall, bulky blonde near the front of the room nodded. At Levi's threatening stare, the rest of the room echoed the same sentiment.

"Good." He turned. "You," he pointed, "continue."

Since they were seated in alphabetical order, Mikasa was the first to go. As she stood, Krista wondered if it ever bothered the girl to have her last name start with an "A" and suffer through years of being at the front of the line. Almost as if she could sense Krista's questioning, Mikasa's eyes flashed dangerously as she glared right back at their teacher and offered, "Shouldn't we be waiting for our last student to come in first?"

Krista swallowed at the withering look Levi gave the black-haired girl. She was surprised, though, having realized they were indeed missing a student, as the seat behind a ponytailed girl was strangely empty.

"What is your name?" Levi growled.

"Mikasa Ackerman," the girl sneered.

"Ah, the basketball star," he sniffed. "I assume you know our missing student, then?"

"She should be-"

The door slid open and slammed into the wall with such force that the doorframe shook, sending several students into pain as they smashed various body parts into their desks in surprise.

"Whoops, sorry," a familiar voice apologized, and when the missing student casually strolled into the room, hands behind her head, Krista could not help exclaiming her sheer disbelief.

"You! Oh my god, are you stalking me?"

She watched as the freckles on the student's face moved as (what was her name, again?) the same tall stranger from that day in the park appeared stunned, then after a quick once over Krista's visage, smiled. Then she was aware of every single pair of eyes in the room trained on her.

Oh no. No no no nonono.

The stranger's smile grew wider as she noticed her panic, and in a heartbeat, she responded, "Don't flatter yourself. It should be the other way around, kid."

Kid? That did it. The rest of her sanity and self-control slipped away as she barked, "Oh yeah? Why are you so high and mighty, creep? You look way too old to be a freshman in high school."

The tall girl had her mouth poised to respond when their teacher decided to restore order to the room by dragging a piece of chalk down the board, the resulting noise so horrible and unbearable that everyone instantly slammed their palms over their ears.

The embarrassment sunk in after the room quieted down, and Krista flushed as her high school career died before her very eyes.

Once he'd wiped his chalky fingers off and tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket, Levi let his eyes roam silently over the room. He noted, with particular satisfaction, the fear that greeted him in turn. "Now if we're done throwing tantrums and petty insults," he sighed, feeling a headache coming on, "let's continue."

The stranger nonchalantly walked over to the empty seat and sat down, patting the ponytailed girl's head on the way.

Having decided that making Levi any madder wasn't worth the effort, Mikasa stood up once more and put the painful deed behind herself. "Mikasa Ackerman. I like basketball. Nice to meet you all." She abruptly sat back down.

A couple more students spoke and took their turns before the stranger was up. Did Armin go? He should have gone. He was sitting right behind Mikasa. So in shock was she that Krista nearly missed the stranger's introduction, but her ears instantly latched onto the stranger's soothingly husky voice when she spoke. No, not soothing. Irritating. Annoying. Creepy. Weird.

"Ymir Blouse. I play basketball."

Strange. Definitely not interesting. Or attractive. No, why would she even think that? This girl was clearly a sta-

Basketball. Did she say basketball? Crap. Their school was famous for their girls basketball team. Oh no.

" _Don't flatter yourself. It should be the other way around, kid."_

Dread filled the pit of her stomach.

The rest of the introductions blurred by, including her own, and then several of their teachers came in and did their introductions too. But her mind finally caught up to speed when lunch rolled by and she found herself surrounded by... By a bunch of shallow, gossipy group of girls. In a corner of the school. By the staircase.

She hadn't even really been thinking about anything in particular, only settled into a nice blank state of mind, and forgot all about her self-preservation instincts. Like not antagonizing her homeroom teacher. Or blurting out and nearly getting into a fight in front of the entire class. Or waltzing into back corners of the school by herself.

How did she end up here anyway?

Oh. Right, she forgot her lunch at home and needed to buy some from the cafeteria. She froze as the girls turned their overly decorated faces toward her small form, despite her efforts to safely sneak past.

"Hey, it's the new girl." This girl had a particularly nasty case of too much eye shadow going on, and she could have been mistaken for a raccoon, Krista thought.

"Not from this district are you? You didn't go to the middle school, did you?"

No, Krista answered in her head, she did not. Was it really that strange for people to attend a high school outside their districts?

"Look at her, what a little runt. Maybe she went to the wrong school today."

Oh. It was a setup for a joke at her expense. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Well, it was her fault for trespassing on their territory in the first place. "Listen, I didn't mean to come here. I'll just be on my way, and I'll never-"

"Wait. Girls, wait."

Krista stared, confused, as who was clearly the ringleader walked forward and stared her down.

"This was the one badmouthing Ymir earlier today." The girls gasped, some clearly faked, and others genuine. Krista sighed once more. This was what she had been afraid of.

"Really? This runt had the gall to insult Ymir?"

Because where any athletic stars were-

"We should teach this bitch a lesson. Coming here and insulting Ymir, to boot?"

"No one gets away with insulting our Ymir."

-fangirls followed.

"I just wanted to have a peaceful high school life," Krista whined, sighed a third time, and immediately turned around and began to sprint away. It was funny, though, no matter how bad this situation was, because at least she was getting some much needed exercise.

"Come back here!"

"Slow down!"

"We just want to be friends!"

"Those are the worst lines I have ever heard," Krista panted darkly to herself. Shaking her head, she sharply turned a corner and managed to see blonde locks of hair before she promptly crashed into what felt like a pair of decently sized breasts. They didn't fall, though, as the assailed person had enough strength to wrap her arms around the escaping girl and steady them both with skilled footing.

Dazed, Krista had zero time to comprehend what was going on before the patter of feet chasing her stopped somewhere within her vicinity and the stampede chase ended. She hoped it ended, anyway. She couldn't do this anymore, running twice in a day after years of inactivity.

However, nothing happened. Absolute silence echoed throughout the room, and Krista regained her senses enough to realize her face was still planted right between her savior's breasts. Red coloring her cheeks, she lifted her arms up and tried to push off the girl's stomach, only to realize that this girl had abs. Solid, rock hard abs. A six pack, if she had to guess, and she wondered who in the world had a six pack in high school.

Her savior resisted her push and stifled her movements by tightening her arms in their hold. "Don't move," she whispered into her ear. Krista couldn't help the shudder that shot down her spine at the hot breath that tickled her skin. Nonetheless, she obeyed, but only after shifting her neck so that she was looking at the girl's neck, and the girl's chin buried itself into Krista's head. Her skin was very pale, Krista thought.

"What do you girls think you're doing?" a strong voice commanded, and Krista watched as the girl's throat vibrated with the sound. She must be short, Krista realized, if I can bury my face in her neck.

"Nothing!"

"We were, uh, showing the new girl around."

"We're all new here," her savior darkly pointed out. "Unless the lot of you are classless enough to chase an underclassman around and hang around the first year area."

"We're so sorry!" another girl wailed, and Krista recognized her as the ringleader. It would be hard to miss that shrill and nasally voice. "We won't bother her again. Promise."

"We didn't know she belonged to you, Leonhart, ma'am!"

Krista heard her savior give a heavy and exasperated sigh. "Just go," the girl commanded, and the pounding footfalls signaled their retreat. Then the arms wrapped around her quickly disappeared and she was free.

The first feature she observed about her savior was her startlingly bright blue eyes. The next was her very... obtrusive nose. The blue eyes met Krista's own, watched her for a few moments and turned away.

The girl was very beautiful in a strangely rough, yet soft, manner. She was definitely built like a bodybuilder, but her feminine curves were still quite captivating, and Krista found herself drawn to the strength she found in that form. The very same form that was now walking away.

"Wait!" Krista called, running after her. She grabbed the girl's arm. "Thank you. For catching me, and... and driving those girls away."

She expected those eyes to be cold when they looked over at her, but instead, they were blank. Soulless, even, as if the girl wasn't all there. "You're welcome," the girl replied, and gently pulled away from Krista's grip.

"I'm Krista, Krista Lenz," she suddenly blurted out. When the girl didn't respond, she prodded, "Who are you?"

The girl almost seemed to consider not answering, then shook her head and ran a tired hand through her blonde bangs. "Annie," she stated. "Leonhart."

Again, Annie tried to walk away, but Krista grabbed her wrist and refused to let go. "Let me thank you properly," Krista offered. "It's the least I can do." Otherwise her mother in heaven would strangle her for her bad manners.

"...I appreciate the offer, but-"

Seeing that she would be shot down, Krista's eyes darted around for a solution and landed on a potential candidate. "How about," she started, dragging Annie by the wrist as she walked over, "a drink? This'll take one second, okay?"

She watched, quietly amused, as Annie hosted an internal debate, frowned, blonde eyebrows scrunching together, and her blue eyes rapidly switched between Krista and the vending machine and back and forth before she squeezed her eyelids shut and sighed in resignation. "Alright. One drink," she conceded.

"Yes!" Krista cheered, then immediately caught herself. She felt as if any sudden or loud movements would scare Annie right off. "What would you like?"

"Anything is fine," the blonde shrugged.

"Okay, well, there's this drink I've been thinking of trying out..."

Once they each had a bottle of Orange Rescue in their respective grips, they stood in front of the machine in dead silence, both unsure of how to proceed. Finally, Annie unscrewed the cap to her drink and took a sip. "It's good," Annie remarked after a few seconds. "Thank you."

Krista tried to respond, but Annie was already gone. She briefly entertained the thought of going after her a second time, but threw the thought out of her head and contented herself with simply watching Annie's back as she turned the corner. The very same one they had collided at.

"This is good," Krista mumbled, taking a much needed gulp of her own drink, but she honestly didn't know if she was talking about the drink or the encounter. Perhaps both, she mused, and she smiled as she took her sweet time walking back to the classroom.

Lunch completely slipped her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this might be a disaster, but... I hope I keep enough enthusiasm and inspiration to keep this going. I certainly have a ton of ideas, and... Well, I hope videogames and college don't get in the way haha
> 
> That aside, I want to pioneer the Annie/Krista ship. As a sidenote, I have not decided yet if this story will end with Ymir/Krista or Annie/Krista, even though I love Ymir to death. As for other pairings, that remains to be seen.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and ta taa for now
> 
> (yes, the title is from nano's song. Bless that girl and her voice)


	2. Chapter 2

It had been one of those days, one of those that simply slipped past her grip of reality and the next thing she was aware of was the shrill ringing of the bell through the school's PA system. Even then, she'd barely registered the noise, and it wasn't until a hand waved right in front of her face that she snapped out of her stupor long enough to realize that the school day had ended.

Her brief once over of the room revealed that it was almost empty, save for the trio that stood before her.

"You know, I'm all for spacing out in school, but it's only the first day," Eren's friendly voice teased.

"Cut her some slack. I heard that one of the girly gangs cornered her at lunch, and that is definitely not a great first day experience," Armin interjected. Blinking, Krista raised her head in time to see a swift hand reach out and nab Eren by the ear and, despite herself, an amused smile formed on her lips. Good thing too, because she wasn't quite ready to think about the mysterious savior that accompanied the thought of the girl gang.

"Ow! Mikasa! I didn't even do anything this time!"

"Apparently, but Krista seems to enjoy the show, so why not give her what she wants?"

"Mikasa! Ow!"

It was at that moment that her stomach chose to announce it had not been fed. Loudly. Drawing the gazes of the trio, Krista flushed and searched for an excuse, any excuse, to divert their attention. "So, uh, what are you guys doing after school today?"

Eren jabbed an irritated thumb in Mikasa's direction. "She's got basketball things," he sniffed. "Armin and I are gonna go get some food, and it seems like your stomach might like to join us," he finished off with a grin.

That deserved a bonk on the head and after a withering glare, Mikasa picked up her bag and turned to leave. "Behave. Tell Mom I'll be home late today."

Eren responded by sticking his tongue out. Mikasa shook her head and walked away. Hearing a sigh to the side, Krista turned to look at Armin and found him smiling affectionately. He blinked at her and chuckled. "Sorry, don't mind me. Shall we be on our way? That is, if you want to join us."

She was tempted to ask, very tempted, but after her earlier embarrassing outburst prying into Eren's and Mikasa's relationship, she felt it would be better to let it slide. For now.

"That depends. Where are we headed?"

Both Eren and Armin gave her bright matching grins.

* * *

Bread. Rows upon rows upon rows of bread, bread everywhere she looked, bread along all the walls, bread in stands across the room, bread…

And then there were the pastries, various kinds, some she recognized, others she might've seen in a magazine or an advertisement, others she was sure were from different parts of the world, and others still that she didn't recognize in the slightest, something she wasn't sure was possible with pastries of all things. She wasn't even inside yet. No, just standing outside the large glass window and transparent door, staring at the inside and looking up at the bright sign above her head, simple yet stylish, she was already overwhelmed. Blouse Bakery, it read, and what a bakery it was.

"I think we killed her, Armin."

"Maybe she's hungrier than we thought?"

"No, look at her. I think we might've sent her up to heaven, man."

"Hmm. Now that you mention it, the bright glow from the inside makes her look like she dropped down from heaven."

"Haha, you're right! She looks like an angel or a goddess or something."

Krista was only shaken out of her reverie when she felt two hands, one cold and one warm, take her hands on both sides and pull her forward.

"Just wait to you get inside and you can  _smell_ it all."

She could have cried when the bell above the door jingled and the first wave of hot bakery goodness assaulted her nose. In fact, she felt tears form in the corners of her eyes and, well, it wasn't entirely the fault of the mouthwatering smells. She remembered for a brief moment the first and last time she had gone to a bakery, but she swallowed the memory and allowed herself to be dragged to one of the many curved glass displays in the room.

"Now this here is a real treat. A lemon tart garnished with whipped cream and fruits, but let me tell you, it tastes unlike any other lemon tart out there. Actually, everything in this place tastes unreal!" Eren enthusiastically gestured at the meticulously decorated tarts sitting at the top of the display. "Once you go Blouse, you never go back."

"Eren, I'm not sure that's the right-"

"Armin, shuddap. You're ruining the magic."

Krista giggled at the exasperated expression on Armin's face before her stomach chose that moment to remind her of its current predicament, and then it was the boys' turn to laugh.

"I think we should hurry up and feed that," Eren poked at Krista's midsection.

"Hey!" Swatting his hand away, she pouted indignantly. That only lasted a second, though, and then she was cracking a smile amongst their amused grins while Eren started piling bread and pastries into a bag.

She felt like they had known each other their whole lives, as strange as it was, getting swept along by Eren's passionate determination to have fun and Armin's amicable commentary, letting herself be taken to someplace unknown with these two boys she had only just met, and she really hadn't… ever had any friends before. Not that she deserved to. Not that she deserved any of her life, but she reminded herself that she'd make the most of what she had and that meant swallowing the lump in her throat and enjoying the boys' company. No, her life was finally going back onto some track and she wasn't going to let herself be the one to throw it back off.

If either of them noticed her smile falter, they didn't say anything. Besides, it was hard to let herself fall back to her dark places when the bakery was so bright and filled with delectable goods. Christmas had come early.

"Welcome to Blouse Bakery! How may I help you today?" a bright, cheerful voice greeted.

Krista's eyes snapped over to the register and widened in surprise. An energetic girl sporting a high ponytail beamed at them from behind the counter, and after a heartbeat, Krista remembered that she had seen this girl earlier back when the classroom was doing introductions. She was sitting a little ways back from Mikasa and Armin and directly in front of... Ymir.

She was the one Ymir had patted on the way to her seat.

Something about the ponytailed girl's words bothered Krista, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Oh well. Stomach first, questions later. "Hello," Krista smiled politely back. Then she choked as a heavy arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her forward.

"Yo, Sasha! How's business?" Eren's voice boomed next to Krista's ear, forcing a wince from the girl.

"Oh, hey Eren! Business is good, I think," the cashier replied. "We keep getting more and more people coming in every week, so that means it's good, right?"

"That's good," Armin walked over with a wave. "Hello, Sasha."

"Wait, Armin?" Sasha's eyes went wide as saucers. "I thought… Eren, if that's not Armin, then who's the one getting crushed under your arm?"

As Armin sputtered and Eren roared with laughter, Krista wrangled herself out from under Eren's arm and pouted. "I am," she muttered. A little more loudly, she continued, "I'm Krista Lenz. I'm in your class."

Sasha's head tilted to the side in thought before recognition dawned in her widening eyes and she snapped her fingers. "Oh, yeah! You're the girl from a different district. We don't get many new faces around here besides the basketball recruits."

"Yeah, that's me," Krista sighed and wondered if everyone would always recognize her as the new girl. Or confuse her with Armin. She couldn't decide which option was worse.

Sasha's cheer didn't fade with her lackluster response, though. If anything, her smile grew wider. "Here." She moved to the counter display and rummaged around the pastries before putting one in a bag and holding it out to the exasperated blonde. "Welcome to our town," she beamed. Krista stared at the offered treat.

"Er, how much?" she asked, reaching down to go through her school bag for her wallet.

"No! It's on the house!" Sasha frantically waved her hands around and all but shoved the bag into Krista's face. The blonde barely caught it before Sasha let it go.

Flushing lightly, Krista breathed out a stunned "thanks" and felt the paper bag crinkle in her grip. Sasha merely winked as the door jingled with the arrival of another customer, and the cashier girl whipped her head around to greet the newcomer. Krista almost dropped the bag when Sasha suddenly yelped with outrage.

"You! How many times have I told you to use the back entrance!" Sasha shrieked, moving to get past the counter and confront whoever it was she was yelling at. She didn't make it far before her brown apron snagged on a corner and yanked her back. "Ah!"

A familiar irking, grating, disgusting, amused laugh invaded Krista's ears. Dread clawed its way up her throat.

"Potato girl, calm down before you hurt yourself," the newcomer snickered. "More than you already have, anyway."

She held her breath.

"Oh? Who's this?"

Reluctantly, Krista turned around. Sharp eyes, dark hair and freckles towered over her, and a cocky eyebrow rose up as Ymir grinned, "Oh, my. Even stalking me to my home now, are we?"

She could have screamed. Blouse Bakery. Sasha Blouse. Ymir Blouse. If she wasn't feeling exhausted from her crazy first day of school, she would have made the connection immediately and never set foot in this... this heavenly display of baked goods. No, who was she kidding? She would have come in regardless (thanks, stomach), but at least she would've been mentally prepared to deal with this annoyance.

She gave Ymir her best glare and felt her temper rise when the taller girl wasn't the slightest bit phased. "Trust me when I say you're the last person I want to see when I can finally get rid of your presence after school."

Finally freeing herself from the counter, Sasha spoke up. "Ymir, why are you even here? Practice isn't supposed to be over for another 2 hours, especially on your first day back."

Those piercing dark eyes thankfully left Krista's face as Ymir shrugged. "Turns out our point guard is in the hospital. Practice was cut short and we were told to go home."

Nobody moved.

"Hospital?" Armin managed to gasp.

"Wait, what happened? Is Mikasa okay?" Eren broke in. He and Armin had turned a little pale. Ymir snorted at their expressions, and Krista felt her worry turn to anger as her temper shot through the roof. The boys were just worried, so why couldn't Ymir have the decency to act a little more considerate?

"Your little girlfriend's fine, brat," Ymir flippantly waved. Armin had to grab Eren as the boy stepped aggressively forward, but the tall girl continued without batting an eye at the growl shot her way. "Petra was grabbing some things out the car for the coach when someone apparently just mowed her over in the parking lot."

Everyone stared with wide eyes at the storyteller.

"It gets better too. Turns out someone jacked Levi's car. Get this irony! The teacher this girl has a crush on has his car stolen and someone uses it to run the girl over. Man, it's like something out of a drama," Ymir cackled.

The others' mouths opened and closed in poor imitations of goldfish, but Krista was having none of Ymir's attitude.

She felt something within her snap. In one breath, she reached up with both hands and grabbed the girl's school tie, yanking her forcefully down and choking the laugh right out of her lungs. Those dark eyes fixed themselves upon her even as she felt Ymir's hot breath wash over her face, and through her rage hazed mind, she thought that the girl's breath surprisingly lacked any awful odor.

One point in her favor, she supposed and then, out loud, uttered a single command: "Stop. Laughing."

A spark of some emotion flitted through her dark eyes, then Ymir cracked a cocky smirk. "Or what? Gonna slap me a couple times, pipsqueak?"

Krista socked her right in the face.

"Oh  _shit_ ," she heard Eren breathe out while Ymir staggered away, face in the shadow of her hand covering her red cheek. The tall girl didn't move a single inch afterwards, just stood still in a half turned away position, air freezing into stunned silence around the teens as the seconds dragged on. Krista felt like throwing up.

She quickly discovered that it wasn't vomit threatening to spill out of her throat; it was words.

"Your teammate just got run over and you're laughing about it? How much more of an asshole can you be?" she quietly snarled.

"H-Hey, Krista..." Armin weakly tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, far too absorbed in her rage to notice her instinctive and insensitive response.

"You disgust me," she spat out, then swallowed once and struggled for more words to attack with, but the words became lodged in her throat and she found that it was hard to breathe. Ymir remained turned away, but that was fine. Krista didn't feel like waiting around for another round of the girl's mocking laughter nor her infuriating smirk. Nor those piercing dark eyes that unsettled her to the core.

The bell above the door jingled with her exit.

She found the outside air a lot easier to breathe as she stomped away, not caring which direction she was going in. Her head drowned in a cacophony of thoughts and her heart thundered in her chest, but what distracted her the most was the throbbing of her knuckles. She had actually went and punched a girl she barely knew in front of three of her other classmates. Unbelievable.

When she looked down to inspect the damage, she was startled to find that, while the knuckles on her punching hand were red and blotchy, her other hand still clutched both her school bag and the paper bag containing the treat Sasha had given her. She hadn't even noticed she still had them.

Her stomach grumbled pitifully, and she sighed. Diving into the bag with her sure-to-bruise hand, she felt the dry crustiness of a pastry and lifted it out. Upon the initial inspection of its golden rectangular shape, it seemed like a strange croissant, but after a hearty, eager bite and the burst of sweet, cider flavor, she discovered it was an apple turnover. The best apple turnover she had ever had. Her hunger overwhelmed her though, and she wolfed through it as fast as she could, savoring it as much as she could in the process.

Briefly, she considered turning back to thank Sasha again for the treat and to compliment the baker behind the magnificent creation, but thinking about seeing that cheerful face twist into discomfort stopped her.

As much as Ymir deserved that punch, she really shouldn't have punched her in front of her sister, the very one who had given her free food and a bright, welcoming smile. And in her family's store, too! What a mess. This was not the start she had expected of her high school career. From making friends, to finding herself cornered by some high school groupies, to being saved by a muscular, short mysterious girl, to a charming bakery and friendly faces, to punching one of her classmates in the face…

In her mind's eye, she saw the flash of vicious, glinting blue eyes and found herself comparing them to the arrogant dark ones that had widened in the split second before her fist met flesh.

Fingers twitching, she then remembered the feel of hard, chiseled muscle taut beneath soft skin, and she wondered if...

"Hey, sis! Watch out!"

Her neck cracked with the speed she whipped her head to face the voice, and just in time to barely sidestep the orange ball heading straight for her face. It came so close that she could briefly smell the scent of rubber, asphalt, and dirt that clung to the ball, sending a wave of nostalgia shooting through her being. She froze.

"Yo, sis! Sorry about that! You okay?"

The sound the ball made as it bounced away, a heavy empty echo that slammed against the pavement, shook her out of her thoughts more than the young voices that called out to her. It was only then that she realized her feet had led her to a basketball court. She was standing past the fence, directly behind the backboard looming above her head, and she realized that someone had missed the backboard by such a long shot that the ball had flown right over the fence and nearly on top of her face.

Eyes roaming further, a field slid into her view beyond the court and a decent sized playground laid a little further out on the right edge of the field, everything filled with children free from the confines of classrooms and naps. The local park, she realized after a few blinks.

"Heeeeey, earth to sis! You alive over there?"

"Ah," she gasped. Staring at her through the holes of the fence were several children that seemed like they were in elementary school. Probably some of the neighborhood children, she guessed. "Yes, I'm fine," she called out.

"Phew," one of them laughed.

"I thought we were in trouble for a second," another one nervously chattered.

"Can you pass us the ball, sis?" the tallest kid asked, and she noticed he was probably taller than her (not that that was a hard feat to accomplish, she thought bitterly). From his voice and use of "sis", he'd been the one shouting at her earlier, and she reckoned he was the oldest and probably the leader of the troupe.

"Sure," she agreed and jogged over to the still rolling ball. Reaching a foot out, she stopped the ball's escaping momentum and reached her free hand down grab it, wincing as her sore knuckles protested with her outstretched palm. An old urge possessed her when her fingertips touched the dirty fake leather skin and plastic lines, and she found herself tapping her fingers rapidly against the ball, ignoring the jolts of pain shooting through her hand with each tap, sending it bouncing off the pavement little by little until she was standing and dribbling the basketball with ease.

When she looked back, the kids were giving her burning, curious gazes. A small smile crossed her lips.

"Actually," she drawled, dribbling towards the bench nearby and setting her bags down. "I changed my mind. You guys'll only get this back on one condition."

"What's that?" the leader cheerfully smiled.

"Let me join in too."

The kids in unison turned the tallest kid in silent question, and he gazed around their expectant faces for a moment before snickering to himself.

The verdict was simple: "Then I hope you're ready to get stomped, sis."

She simply replied, "We'll see about that."

Her sudden burning desire to play flickered when she stepped into the court and felt all those curious stares fix themselves on her dribbling wrist, but then the tall boy approached her in confident strides and she felt the urge to play flare back to life. The bounce of the basketball echoed in her ears as the boy's next words came.

"We'll be captains." He pointed at himself, then at her.

"Fine."

"First, a one on one though. Whoever scores first gets first pick out of these brats." A lazy thumb jerked in the direction of the other kids, and a few "Hey!"s were shouted in response. He grinned, expelling hot air through his nostrils in repressed chuckles.

She took in his tan skin, taut muscles, and scuffed Jordans. A regular street baller, he was probably used to winning and taking all the bragging rights, especially in this neighborhood where he had every advantage over the other kids. They all liked him, though, and clearly looked to him for leadership, so while he most likely wasn't a jerk about his skills, he wouldn't go easy on her if it meant upholding his pride.

Whether or not he was actually good was another matter entirely, but she could worry about that later.

Licking her lips and darting her eyes around, she gave out a nervous, "Sounds… good," and hoped he would take the bait.

He didn't disappoint. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on a  _girl_ ," he smirked, instantly relaxing his shoulders.

By the time he managed to turn around, she was already following the faded line marking the free throw lane, counting her steps out in familiar ease, picking up the ball and clutching it to her belly once she was ready to take her three steps of left, right, left and lift off, arms extending and wrist rolling up at that spot on the backboard where she knew the ball would hit, fly, and swish into the hoop.

Her momentum carried her afterwards into the fence rather painfully, but it was worth it for the looks on the children's faces.

* * *

It seemed all those years of playing never left her in terms of skill, but her fit form from then did not carry over to now, so she had no choice but to sit out after half an hour of running, shouting, smiling, dribbling, passing, and shooting. Her team was doing well, rather inspired after her little stunt, but the boy's team tried that much harder to beat her for it.

Despite the intense rivalry on the court, however, no one really knew what the score was (but if the kids were asked, they would say that their respective team was winning, and then some petty arguing would begin, but Krista and the boy stopped that quickly), and it was probably more fun for everyone that way. She was having the time of her life, if she was perfectly honest with herself, even after almost puking for how hard she was pushing her body, but she couldn't help herself.

She had missed this, and the smiles on all those kids' faces didn't hurt.

They'd listened to her instructions pretty well, and she'd rapidly figured out who was better at shooting than dribbling, passing than shooting, dribbling than shooting, and who preferred to do the fancy tricks and show off. She could tell they held her now in probably the same respect they gave the leader boy, and her old basketball pride drank it all in with glee.

'Course, her old basketball pride was also a little wounded at how quickly she had to step out. But hey, what can a person do when exercising just isn't their top priority anymore?

Laughing as one of her kids accidentally threw the ball onto the top of the backboard and sent it flying, her dry throat caught up to her and she began to cough, lungs and throat contracting painfully as the coughing fit continued. Briefly, she wondered if this was going to be the stupid way she passed onto the next life, but to her immense surprise, something cold and wet and plastic smacked into her cheek.

She turned to face the water bottle, eyes watering as the coughing continued, and nearly fainted.

A nice purple bruise was forming on one freckled cheek.

Ymir, leaning down so she could manage to reach Krista's hunched over form, raised one dark eyebrow when Krista didn't immediately take the water. "You planning on coughing to death?"

Her retort died into her next cough.

Ymir rolled her eyes. "Just take the damn water. I'd rather not get accused for murdering the transfer student."

The coughing was going on to be unbearable, and Krista knew she'd have a better chance at retorting so long as she was alive to do it. (Un)Gratefully, she yanked the bottle out of Ymir's grip, broke the seal on the cap and chugged.

When her lips finally separated from the bottle with a smack, she found that whatever she had wanted to do to Ymir while she was dying had died after she was revived by the cold liquid. Then it occurred to her that this girl she had just punched an hour or two ago had saved her skin, and she found herself wishing that she had let herself simply choke to death.

Of all the things that could happen to her. What a crazy first day this was.

The pain in her throat fading, she struggled to swallow her embarrassment and thank Ymir. When that failed, she tried swallowing her pride to apologize for earlier, but that proved even more difficult than the former and so she waited for Ymir to say something, anything, to break the suddenly tense atmosphere over their heads.

They remained in silence, Krista sitting on the asphalt and Ymir leaning back against the fence, both of them watching the kids run back and forth across the court as the sun disappeared into the distance.

"You know," Ymir finally spoke, startling Krista into sitting up a little straighter. "For such a small thing, you sure can move fast."

Her mouth slowly dropped open, and she stood up, unnerved at how the immense height difference was making her feel so small and  _weak_. Standing up, at least, decreased that height difference by a little. "You were watching?" she asked.

Krista sensed rather than saw Ymir's eye roll. "Please. Did you think I just happened to pass by here with a bottle of fresh, ice cold water?"

She knew she was supposed to answer that with a "thanks, I guess," but she wasn't ready to let her irritation go yet. "How long were you watching me for?" she demanded instead.

"Since you ate that apple turnover like you were a rabid dog. The crumb trail you left was the easiest damn thing to follow."

Whipping around to incredulously stare at the taller girl, she was met with the sparkling mirth in those dark eyes and the ugly, purple fist sized bruise on her left cheek, and found her irritation melting away. She swallowed thickly and turned back to watching the kids. "Are you ever going to stop stalking me, stalker?" she quietly retorted, the bite gone in her voice.

"Only if you stop stalking me first," came the amused reply.

Her eyes followed the tall boy she had outwitted early as he crossed the ball between his legs, rushing past a younger boy and hopping up to shoot, and the orange ball left his relaxed grip in an arch and cleanly swished through the hoop.

Inhaling deeply, she exhaled slowly and rubbed the sweat still drying on her forehead. The cool bottle in her hand crinkled.

"Sasha made you go after me, didn't she?"

"Go ask her yourself if you want to know."

Krista sighed at the evasive answer, half expecting it and knowing it would be the most likely answer she'd receive. But that was answer enough, wasn't it? Not like Ymir would willingly follow her after that punch.

Ugh. She at least owed Ymir a proper thanks and apology, if only for her sister's sake.

She turned back around and let that purple monstrosity on Ymir's face guilt her into saying what she needed to say.

Forcing her mouth open, she choked out, "Thanks. For the water. And, uh, sorry for decking you so hard."

Her eyes closed in a wince immediately after the words left her mouth. Sorry for decking you  _so hard_? Might as well have said you would deck her again if you knew the kids weren't watching.

But Ymir seemed to understand, and her next few words forced Krista's eyes wide open. "You've got a mean right hook, I gotta say," Ymir huffed in laughter. "But I've got a better use for that hand than injuring it on my face, a way you can both thank me and make up for this new tattoo on my face."

Was… Was that a euphemism? She was cautiously curious as to what this near stranger would ask of her, considering their past encounters, but she hoped it wouldn't be anything illegal or life-shattering. Or… She blushed. She wouldn't, would she? But what did she know about Ymir, anyways?

"Everything comes with a price, right?" she responded reluctantly, knowing she was getting into something she'd rather not but had no choice in the matter.

"Oh, you are going to  _love_ your price."

The grin on Ymir's face was borderline predatory, and Krista took a few steps back in alarm. She watched in silent horror as the tall girl reached into her pocket, flicked her cell phone open and dialed in a number.

The person on the other side of the line picked up after one ring, and Ymir talked immediately over their greeting, saying the words that would completely change the course of Krista's life over the next few months: "I found our replacement point guard. Her name's Krista Lenz, and I think you're gonna like her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been almost a full year since my last update. Here's the tldr; version of why: I completely scrapped the first version of this, which was 2.5k words long and half done, people died, I got super depressed and had to deal with dropping out of college, then I had much parental drama.
> 
> That being said, I am on the way to feeling like myself again, and part of being myself is writing. So the next chapter shouldn't be too far off. I have plenty of ideas, shenanigans that will hopefully put smiles on your faces and help Krista develop and grow, as well as try and make Ymir seem like more of a potential romantic interest since right now she's kinda EH on Krista's list. Gotta work on this whole love triangle thing.
> 
> As always, thanks to Nishizono for PRing. Hope you enjoyed!


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